The Dilemma
by fictionalparadox
Summary: "Risks must be taken because the greatest hazard in life is to risk nothing."


**Title:** _The Dilemma_  
**Author:** AJ (fictionalparadox)  
**Word Count:** 1,480  
**Spoilers:** _Bones _(2005), 1x01-1x09  
**Disclaimer: **All television shows, movies, books and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and the events in such, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and is not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places or events are made in a fictional context and are not intended to be libellous, defamatory or, in any way, factual.  
**Author's Note:** This fanfiction was my first ever written, originally published on my personal LiveJournal on 01/01/11. I have since rewritten most of it and well, here we are! Enjoy the new, updated version! Inspired by the poem below, _Risks_.

* * *

_To laugh is to risk appearing a fool.  
To weep is to risk appearing sentimental.  
To reach out for another is to risk involvement.  
To expose feelings is to risk rejection.  
To place your dreams before the crown is to risk ridicule.  
To love is to risk not being loved in return.  
To go forward in the face of overwhelming odds is to risk failure.  
But risks must be taken because the greatest hazard in life is to risk nothing.  
He may avoid suffering and sorrow, but he cannot learn, feel, change, grow or love.  
Chained by his certitudes, he is a slave.  
He has forfeited his freedom.  
Only a person who takes risks is free._

_Risks_ by Janet Rand

* * *

**December 31, 11:06pm**

The two of them marched up to the petite cottage that they had visited earlier that week. This was the part of the job Booth was confident and content to do: giving the family closure. The victim was a middle-aged man by the name of Peter Vincent; wife, no kids. After going over his remains, interviewing suspects and putting the pieces together, the killer was caught easily.

Unlike the majority of cases, the motive was not money or sex; it was pride with a hint of jealousy. His boss, a chubby, slightly older man, became angered after Vincent had stood up to him, tired of his abuse. His superior, who had just been dumped by his wife and thrown out of his house, furiously hit him over the head with a desk lamp, frustrated that he had, once again, lost someone's respect.

Even though Booth liked to give people closure, he, of course, wished that there was no death to begin with. One of the few good, decent men, who had not had all his vibrancy taken away from him by the world, was now gone. And for what? Because some _asshole_ couldn't swallow his pride? Couldn't take his speech to heart and better himself? In his opinion, it was no excuse to take a life.

"Booth?"

He snapped out of his reverie to see his partner looking at him, so deeply as if in an attempt to invade his intellect.

"Yeah?"

"Do you want me to knock?"

His thoughts had overtaken him so fiercely, he hadn't realised that it had been a few noticeable minutes since they'd arrived.

"Uh, sure."

She did as he instructed, lightly hitting her fist against the brown wooden door three times. No more, no less. Booth had no idea why he felt so distracted and anxious; this was something he had gotten used to as an FBI agent. A _necessity _he had gotten used to. But as he gazed back to his partner, seeing her give him a reassuring smile, his small bout of stage fright fluttered away. He could do this now.

**December 31, 11:39pm**  
She absentmindedly stared at something insignificant marked on the wall. It appeared to be a small, smeared dot, most likely accidental. Brennan guessed it to be from a casual bump that had occurred while someone was doing a task they found to be more important, overcome by their distraction and need to solve their predicament.

They had broken the news to his wife over a cup of tea. It was herbal, and although it was not Booth's favourite thing to swallow, he drank it out of politeness. To his surprise, the beverage released the tension more and the words fell effortlessly from his mouth, like water falling from a cliff to the river below. Brennan had said all she could and was now oddly distracted by the useless speckle, listening to Booth give Vincent's wife a heartfelt farewell.

Unbeknownst to Brennan, Booth had noticed Brennan looking at the wall, occasionally switching to his to peripheral vision so he could see her fascination. Even though each lasted for only a second, frustration overtook him as he was unable to read her. Like always. In this case, however, she would be pleased by his ignorance because, to her, in this moment, her thoughts were relatively unimportant; a low point her logic rarely experienced.

She began to turn, pulling his attention back to the woman he was parting with. The one thing she envied about Booth was his ability to connect and communicate well. He never had to deal with the awkward and confused stares that she was faced with on a daily basis. Her eyes caught on to him and she once again found herself admiring his broad shoulders and musculature, an action she didn't condone and would deny if ever asked that she had done so, of course.

"Okay. You take care, ma'am."

It was time to leave, apparently.

"Bones?"

Booth looked over to see her gazing in his direction, their orbs aligning.

"Yes?"

Brennan tried to hide her embarrassment quickly which seemed quite successful; there was no evidence of suspicion emanating from her partner, that she could tell. He hinted for them to leave with the small tilt of his head and she followed him to the door, throwing a small goodbye smile back to the woman.

**December 31, 11:55pm**  
The car ride was relatively quiet, only a few remarks here and there breaking the monotonous silence. They were drained and tired, ignorant of the time and space in which they resided

Now, they sat at the counter at Wong Foo's, which is where Brennan noticed the unusually large amount of people in the bar. It was extremely late and people didn't tend to stay here past 11pm.

"What are so many people doing here?" she asked with a peculiar tone, indicating confusion.

Booth smiled to himself; he almost forgot how there were moments where she would completely miss the obvious and other times, notice things that were completely invisible to others.

"It's New Year's Eve, Bones. Remember?"

"Oh."

She gave a small chuckle of embarrassment as she recalled the date.

"Seems I... lost track of the time."

An uncomfortable moment of silence suddenly came upon the two but Booth decided he would be the one to break it.

"He shouldn't have died."

Brennan's eyes flicked back to Booth's, confused at first, but then realised what he was talking about upon seeing his sorrow and uncertainty.

"It's human nature, Booth. Mammals have been killing members of their own species for thousands of years."

"Yeah, but when you say it like that, it implies we're like animals. We're more _evolved_, we've been taught the difference between right and wrong."

He paused, shaking his head.

"We shouldn't kill others because we care so much about what they do, what they say..."

"I agree."

Booth looked back at his partner, wondering what else she was going to verbalise.

"We shouldn't but... we do. That's what separates us. The majority of us would do the right thing in a tense situation but... there are _some _who don't get the luxury of knowing what to do.  
"Truthfully, I'd be very... _distressed _if you stopped respecting me like Vincent and his boss. To give you the motivation to never speak to me again, to hate me... would be quite upsetting."

He knew how hard it was for her to be open with him like this and frankly, it made him happy knowing she trusted him enough to share such a profound confession.

"Admittedly, it would not be enough to _murder _you but... I do understand how a person can be driven to such an act. Respect obviously means a lot to James Tyler and when some of it was taken away, he... lost control.  
"_And _to counter your _other _point, you are right: us humans are a unique tribe. We are... closely bonded and feel the need to justify ourselves to other members. It's who we are. We are people who care, we take risks. Some are good, some are bad but... as someone once said, "risks must be taken because the greatest hazard in life is to risk nothing".

She paused.

"Sometimes, we have to risk making mistakes, even though we may know better."

Booth rested his elbow on the counter, his left hand holding his head in place. Before Brennan could ask what he was looking at, the people surrounding them began to chant, all eyes on the television Sid had moved to the corner of the bar.

"10... 9... 8... 7... 6... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1!

Cheers echoed through their eardrums, the streamers from the party crackers falling into their hair. They laughed together while Brennan attempted to free the colourful strips from her reddish-brown locks.

"Are they all out? she questioned her partner.

"No," Booth choked out between laughs. "Here, let me help."

He leaned forward, rustling her hair, she also taking the opportunity to clear his. Booth had less than her so she was done in a matter of seconds. When he thought he had found all the pieces, he held her faces in his hands, searching for any more odd colours mixed in. Their eyes caught and held for what seemed much longer than two seconds. Their smiles ceased. Even though it was only for a moment, they both knew what had been contemplated, something that they had even done once before. But... they would resist.

Booth let go of her face and reached for his beer, proceeding to hold it up.

"Happy New Year, Bones."

She picked up her bottle in return.

"Happy New Year, Booth."

The two clinked glasses and enjoyed their drinks, disregarding the possible moment that had passed. He would take that risk eventually, but for now... he would wait.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Hope you enjoyed! This is my first time posting to so, honestly, I'm a bit nervous. Reviews are always appreciated.


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